


and, we hope,

by bicroft



Series: SidGeno Tumblr Prompts [4]
Category: Men's Hockey RPF
Genre: But mostly hurt sorry, Concussions, Established Relationship, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Sharing a Bed
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-10
Updated: 2017-05-10
Packaged: 2018-10-30 09:52:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 801
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10874322
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bicroft/pseuds/bicroft
Summary: When Sid went down, Zhenya’s heart stopped.





	and, we hope,

**Author's Note:**

> "Anonymous asked: I was hoping maybe you could write something about Sid's recent concussion and Geno worrying about him and taking care of him. Especially since Geno got off the bench to make sure his babe was okay after he was down for so long :("
> 
> prompt crossposted from @sidsknee on tumblr

When Sid went down, Zhenya’s heart stopped. 

They played hockey, and he knew that, knew that Sid was going to get hit and, sometimes, Sid was going to go down; he’d been there through more hits than he could count, and after the first few years and several fights for Sid’s honor, he’d learned that he was just going to get used to it. People were going to try and take Sid down because Sid was good, and that was just something he was going to have to deal with.

When Sid went down, this time, though he didn’t get up. He laid there on the ice, and he rocked, and Zhenya couldn’t catch his breath. He _wished_ he could, because he wanted to yell- at the refs, at the linesmen, at _anyone_ , because Sid was _still just laying there_. 

Finally- _finally_ \- someone came to him, a circle forming around Sid as trainers went and tried to help him up, and Zhenya was off the bench before he could stop himself. He skated over, skating alongside the group helping Sid off the ice, heart clenching when Sid looked at him. His eyes looked glassy, and Zhenya knew what that probably meant before anyone even told him. He tried to smile at Sid, be reassuring, and Sid smiled back, but it was dazed, and it made something ugly curl in Zhenya’s stomach.

Sid has a concussion, the call comes later. The ugly curl turns into a fire, and Zhenya’s heart turns to stone for the rest of the night. They push to OT, but they don’t win, but Zhenya doesn’t let go of the anger until he’s on his way home- not to his house, but Sid’s. He let himself in quietly as he can manage and sneaks up to Sid’s room. He doesn’t turn on the light, doesn’t say anything as he slips into bed beside him, not touching, but close enough Sid probably knew he was there. 

The room was silent except for the sound of their breathing for a moment before Sid spoke. “Did you win?”

Zhenya didn’t want to answer, he really didn’t, a sudden wave of shame hitting him- but, Sid asked, and when Sid asks, Zhenya doesn’t lie. “Overtime, but lose.” he said, sighing and scooting closer.  He tentatively laid and arm over Sid, almost hovering over him instead of touching, but Sid grabbed his hand and pulled it around him, and Zhenya closer by association. 

“Next time.” Sid said, and it’s a promise Zhenya’s heard time and time again after bad games. _Well get it next time_. It should be empty optimism by now, with as many times as they’ve both said it- and it should _definitely_ be right now, in this moment, with Sid’s head and the promise of “next time” with him being nowhere close to sure. 

“Next time.” Zhenya echoed all the same, smiling into the dark. “How’s head? Anything I can do to help?”

“Stay.” Sid mumbled. scooting back as much as he could without moving his head. “That’s it.” 

“Wish I could do more.” Zhenya mumbled, pressing a kiss into his hair. “Take from you, or something.” 

“Don’t _say_  that.” Sid huffed, elbowing Zhenya gently. “Me being hurt doesn’t  get better when you’re hurt, too. We figured that out already.” 

“Still wish.” Zhenya said, pressing a kiss to his shoulder blade and frowning. 

“It’s not that bad.” Sid said, and when Zhenya snorted derisively, he amended: “It’s not as bad as any of the other ones I’ve had. I’ll be fine, G.”

“You always say fine, even when not.” Zhenya said, but, he was hopeful all the same; he had to be. Hockey without Sid was hardly hockey at all. 

“I _am_ fine, this time, though.” Sid said, turning over. He winced a little, and Zhenya made a pained noise in his steady. They were face to face now, though, so he couldn’t complain that much. Sid still looked a little dazed, a little hurt, but his eyes were clearer than when Zhenya saw him last, and that was reassuring.

“I’m make you breakfast in the morning.” he said, pressing a quick, gentle kiss to his forehead. “Spoil you.” 

“You always spoil me.” Sid said, laughing a little and letting his eyes fall shut. 

“Spoil you more.” Zhenya said, throwing his leg over Sid’s, but not closing his eyes. 

“Impossible.” Sid said around a yawn, and all Zhenya did in reply was hum, running a hand soothingly down his side until Sid’s breathing evened out and he was sure he was asleep. 

Zhenya didn’t follow him, though, watching him sleep instead- just in case. Hope could take you a lot of places, but, he’d learned not to put too much faith in it. He could do a lot more himself.


End file.
